I instinctively put cat food into a bowl and stare longingly out the window. I wake up in a cold sweat, fragments of a dream slipping into the deeper folds of my long term memory.
A soul walks backward into the light, leaving me forever. The soul hugs me one last time. It tells me that it is now being welcomed back into entropy and that all the atoms that were once a part of its corporeal body will have enough quantum memory to remember everything I’ve done. I ask, “Why?” It responds with a shrug and a bit of reassurance that I’ll figure it out. I ask, “What will I do now?” Don’t forget me, it says. I’ll always be with you as you have been with me since the beginning, it says. A hazy figure woven from light helps me up from the floor. I wake up in empty white space.
I fall asleep, room much quieter now. I spend hours shoveling soil back into place. Life rewinds at full speed. The day had finally come; no one woke me up today. Food took longer to deplete. There was urine everywhere. Years pass. Scratched arms. Ears wet with saliva. Midnight bites. Window-gazing. A full camera roll. Torn fabrics. chewed wires. I wake up, room much livelier. I welcome her to her new home.
I look into the box and see a scraggly kitten, meowing for food. “I promise to take good care of her,” I say. The box is transferred into my own arms. I feel like all the atoms in the universe have crossed time and space, conspiring to make me happy this one moment in my life.